


Alone And Lonely, Alone And Surrounded

by harvroth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Lonely Harry, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, lonely Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7814287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harvroth/pseuds/harvroth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you step any closer to the water you're going to fall straight in and get yourself killed," Harry's ears perked at the familiar voice that was uncharacteristically not malicious, rather it was cautious and hesitant. He hadn't heard anyone approach nor had he realised he was only inches away from the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone And Lonely, Alone And Surrounded

**Author's Note:**

> I'll just stick to writing smut, eh?

The Great Lake, despite also always being known as the Black Lake, had never looked so black and endless as it did now. It was daunting but also intriguing to Harry, the way the moon looked brighter reflecting off the still water than it did in the starry sky. That the moon lit the whole lake up but it still seemed to highlight how dark the water really was. 

Every so often there'd be a tiny ripple, reminding Harry that there was indeed life in the lake. Alas, life that wasn't very friendly. Though it was probably a friendlier place than the castle, anyhow, Harry thought, thinking of all the changes the castle itself had been through since the war.

While still grieving, the students were friendly, a lot more peaceful, more aware of the famous Harry Potter walking the hallways. The castle, however, wasn't so content of the absence of Voldemort. Everywhere Harry walked, the walls, the floor, the windows all seemed to scream at him, to taunt him and remind him what happened where. Every single footstep was painful. He could barely walk anywhere without a nasty message from the castle or someone hounding him and thanking him. 

The only place he'd felt at home was turning against him. Before he'd killed Voldemort, he'd thought, in the brief moments where he believed he could kill him, that after he'd feel safe and happy and relieved. But he didn't. He felt claustrophobic, as if the walls of the castle were getting darker and closing in on him, never letting him forget the pain that everyone else seemed to have dismissed already. 

He also felt more alone than ever. Every single day without fail there'd be another group of students coming to faun over him and thank him and try and be best friends, but none of them wanted him because he was him. They wanted his fame and his name and in all honesty he'd much rather be alone. Not forgetting that Ron and Hermione had all but forgotten him. They were so loved up with each other they hadn't noticed Harry pulling away. Admittedly, though, Harry didn't want them to notice. He'd burdened them long enough, they deserved their happiness.

The only reason he was back for the god forsaken 8th year was Hermione's insistence. He'd have been happy missing out on getting his NEWTS in favour of working for muggles. At least that way he wouldn't be famous and plastered on newspapers for doing something as mundane as spilling a drop of milk on himself. He'd never enjoyed seeing his face on the Daily Prophet, much less now he wanted to forget his own name.

His life had never been his own and he craved that more than anything. He didn't want to have to appear strong every day, strong enough to hold the entire wizarding community up. He didn't want to have to be happy all the time, because we wasn't at all and in all honesty he had never been. He wanted someone he could lean on as much as they could lean on him. He needed that otherwise he would break. 

"If you step any closer to the water you're going to fall straight in and get yourself killed," Harry's ears perked at the familiar voice that was uncharacteristically not malicious, rather it was cautious and hesitant. He hadn't heard anyone approach nor had he realised he was only inches away from the edge.

"I hope so," Harry breathed, not making a move to step back. Only once the words left his mouth did he realise how true they were. How much he really pined to be with his parents and his godfather. 

The boy behind him stepped forward and snorted sounding a tiny bit less reluctant, but still not nasty.

"You shouldn't joke about things like that." 

For the first time, Harry lifted his head, his eyes falling on the one and only Draco Malfoy, who looked as self-pitiful as Harry himself felt as he stared straight ahead. While Harry's anguish was all internal, the only place he allowed it to be, Malfoy's was very visible both in his exhausted face and the nearly drastic weight loss. It was quite a haunting thing seeing the once constantly smirking and mocking fave so ... Worn out. Grey eyes not sparkling, pale skin a little more paler, defined cheeks that much more defined. For once Harry realised he wasn't the only one suffering, wasn't the only one who still felt no peace.

Though everyone hated Malfoy and everyone loved Harry, the effect ended up the same. They were both alone and lost after their only true aim in life (to win the war) had ended. Harry didn't have it in himself to hate the Slytherin anymore, not only because of the lack of energy but because he'd finally acknowledged the similarities between the two of them. 

Harry stepped back, "who said I was joking?"

Malfoy's eyes snapped up, somehow causing Harry's heart to beat a tiny bit faster after being at such a dull ache for what felt like forever, and he stared straight at Harry. His face was blank but there was something in his eyes that told the Gryffindor he wasn't alone. 

Harry's heart beat even faster.

For what felt like hours that must have only been 30 seconds, the former rivals stared at each other until they heard giggles, footsteps and a very familiar, "Harry! There you are!" 

Malfoy's eyes snapped away at the sound of Hermione. Harry physically felt the disappointment at seeing the walls go back up in Malfoy, for the first time in the 10 minutes they'd been together. 

"Oi, saviour Harry, what you doin' out here? Preventing Slytherin suicides?" Ron chuckled. Harry flinched heavily. Hermione scolded Ron. Malfoy swivelled round and stormed off. 

Harry turned to glare at his best friend, who had already started blushing from Hermione's berate but looked even more mortified at Harry's expression. Deep down he knew Ron, and everyone, had every right to dislike Draco, but Harry was fully against joking about people's death. Much less the only person he'd seemed to have connected with the whole month they'd been back, even after those mere 10 minutes stood together.

No one said anything on the walk back to the castle, through the silent but loud to Harry hallways, up to the mixed 8th dorms. The tension was thick though, with Hermione and Ron sneaking glances at him, cautiously, as if they'd only just noticed there was something wrong.

Harry didn't even mention it was Slytherin preventing Gryffindor suicide. Not the other way around. Instead he stayed silent, discreetly searching for Draco in the common room, not finding him, getting changed and climbing in to bed without a word. Curling up in his sickeningly familiar red quilts (despite having the whole inter house unity rule in place and sharing the same common room, the houses still shared dorms) and dreaming of a pale bony hand to hold. 

\-------

The next 6 weeks got no easier. Students didn't relent in their gratitude, the Daily Prophet still got excited over Harry blinking his eyes, Hermione and Ron had forgotten about the night they'd found him at the lake with Draco, and Draco himself had been avoiding Harry. It hurt ten times more knowing that actually he hadn't been alone, and that Malfoy was isolating himself again because of Harry's best friend's stupid mouth.

Harry had no idea how to reach out, but it was very clear they both needed one another.

The Slytherin never came to dinner but Harry had a feeling that wasn't really his choice, not if the snickering from his table when he was near was anything to go by anyway. He always sat at the back of the classroom alone in their shared classes, and Harry would go and sit with him if he wasn't pulled in another direction by one of his adoring fans. He was barely ever in the common room either. If he wasn't in lessons he was in his dorm doing Merlin knows what, but his bedroom, for some reason, was the place he was reluctant to approach him, as if he was breaching some sort of privacy line. Harry wanted his own privacy, he didn't want to take it away from anyone. Even though that someone probably had far too much privacy, he was alone and lonely. Harry wasn't, Harry was alone and surrounded. 

Every night, Harry escaped to the lake in hopes of the Slytherin turning up, but he never did and somehow Harry's much craved privacy was painful. 

It was only when, nearly 2 months after being at the lake, Malfoy turned up to Charms with a bruised face that Harry decided he couldn't sit back and wait for Draco to willingly be within Harry's proximity. 

Seamus was tugging at Harry's when he caught sight of the white blond hair coming through the doorway, his head ducked. 

Absentmindedly, Harry let his feet move in whatever direction the Irishman wanted them to when Malfoy lifted his head a little, his eyes catching Harry's very briefly before dropping again as he took his place. But Harry had already seen the bruises painted over his nose and cheek and jaw though and he froze.

"Harry?" Seamus asked but Harry just shook him off, turned to him to tell him to sit down as the rest of the Gryffindors watched and then he turned to head to the back of the classroom. He ignored the whispering instead focusing on Malfoy who had lifted his eyes again, his brow furrowed as Harry approached him, his shoulders a little taller and his fingers clenched around his quill.

Harry only vaguely wondered why Draco hadn't removed the marks before he was dropping his bag and sitting down beside the Slytherin.

"Potter," Malfoy sounded, for all the world, as if he wanted to sound malicious but couldn't. He even tried scowling but he looked too tired to succeed in anything half menacing. It was quite pathetic really, and with the way his cheeks flushed a little, Draco agreed.

"Draco," Harry breathed, watching as the Slytherin's eyes, now wide and startled, flickered up to his, once again starting some sort of tiny storm in his chest. 

As Harry stared intently at Draco, not entirely sure what expression was etched on to his face, the other boy's face softened, his shoulders slumping a little before he murmured very softly, "Harry," as if he was tasting it on his tongue.

Harry's whole body relaxed and he felt himself smiling a little, liking the way his name sounded without all the unnecessary admiration poured into it. His name sounded as if it was coming from a complete stranger, and really it was because this wasn't the Draco he'd known for the past 7 years, and that was a massive breath of fresh air. Draco stared at him with a look that was hate and jealousy or love and lust for someone they didn't know. And although it wasn't a look of being comfortable with someone, it was good enough for Harry and he felt a little bit lighter than he had for months.

\-------

The lesson passed by faster than it would have if he'd have sat elsewhere. Neither boys spoke, and Harry hadn't found out anything about Draco's face, but there was something ... calm between them. The silent understanding that had been there almost two months ago was there again and Harry found it easy to just work, and focus on his notes. Of course the other Slytherins and Gryffindors found them both quite fascinating but no one commented. That they could hear anyway.

Surprisingly, no on had said anything while they left the classroom either, after Harry and Draco had nodded at each other, and Harry had rejoined his group. He knew Ron was about to at one point but Hermione had stopped him and that was that. Harry wasn't going to be the first to bring it up.

\-------

Every lesson Harry and Draco shared after that, they got into the habit of sitting together. It was nearly always silent between them unless one needed help, they never talked about their problems or the war or anything but subjects. This seemed to be okay for both of them because Harry was always calmer and unburdened in the times he got to sit beside Draco and Harry had a suspicion it was mutual.

But the calm only lasted so long. He was still, after 4 months, hounded by his fans, or the newspaper and it was tiring. It was tiring keeping the smile on his face 24/7 when there were times he just needed to break down and cry. 

He probably wasn't at that stage with Draco yet though. 

So one night, after seeing an article on his goddamn love life in the Daily Prophet and then double the amount of girls trying to flirt with him after it had been speculated he was single, he ended up down at the lake, grabbing stones and throwing them aggressively into the water.

His shoulders were hunched, his breathing rough and his mind was all over the place. He had too many thoughts in his head. Bad thoughts. End your life Harry, you won't have to see yourself in the papers anymore, you'll be left alone, you'll be peaceful, you'll be with your parents.

Deep down, he knew that was not the best solution (well it was for him, perhaps in the short run anyway) but it was more and more tempting the closer to the lake he got, the more stones he threw. 

He'd thought, stupidly, that the world, the wizarding world at least, would be a better place but he was wrong. So fucking wrong. It was a safe place, there were no maniacs out, but there were fame and memories and they were so much more suffocating. At least a maniac you could kill and end forever. It was 10 times harder trying to blend in like the normal person he was and to push all the bad memories away that only seemed to be haunting him and not anybody else. Everyone else was either too busy staring gooey eyed at each other (Hermione and Ron) and the rest of them, the majority of the school were giving him goddamn special treatment that. He. Did. Not. Want.

"Fucking stupid fucking magic!" He screamed, launching the biggest rock he'd found into the water. 

It made a rather large splash but Harry was too busy scooping up all the pebbles he could find to throw them all in at once to notice it or even feel the water splatter. 

"Are you trying to throw the whole castle in the lake there, P-Harry?" Despite the splash of water, and the softness of the voice, Harry still managed to hear Draco as he stepped down the last step.

The remaining stones immediately fell from Harry's hands as he turned to look at him. 

"Preferably, yes," Harry nodded, suddenly not as angry. 

"What have you got against the castle?" Draco asked, hesitantly, stepping even close, only a couple of feet away from Harry. 

Harry snorted, turning fully to stare at the looming sky high that seemed to be mocking him, even from the outside, "I want it be the home it started out as."

When Harry looked back to Draco, he was closer, inches away and the Gryffindor found his breath caught in his throat, he could smell soap and freshness, and could feel warmth from his body and the breath from his lips. 

"It isn't your home anymore?" Draco asked quietly, staring down the couple of inches, the moon glistening from the silver hair that was artfully styled, one thing that clearly hasn't suffered. 

Shaking his head, Harry exhaled, trying to lose some of the bitterness he had, "no. Every corner I go it gets narrower and darker and I remember things. Deaths. That happened because I was born." Harry's breath was shaky.

"That's exactly how I feel when I'm in the Manor. I can still hear people screaming down the hall, I can still see the corpses of the muggles and the half-bloods, I sit in my bedroom and I feel the fear I felt when the Dark Lord was living only feet away. It doesn't go away." Draco's voice trailed to a whisper and Harry looked up at him. Draco was staring straight at Harry, his eyes glistening, the irises so pale and grey they rivalled the moon.

"But I come to Hogwarts, and it's hardly any better, Harry. I had a direct hand in killing those people, students, I shared classes with some of them. You didn't. You were on the right side, you sacrificed yourself for all of us, no one blames you for those deaths. They do me, my family. And you know what, they're right to. I know, knew, I was on the wrong side, I followed a maniac who killed irrationally. I was scared. I was a coward. I didn't fight for myself. And I'll have that mark forever on my arm reminding myself. You," Draco's voice shook the tiniest bit as he lift his hand, rubbing a thumb across Harry's forehead, over his scar. Harry shuddered, "Harry, I know you hate your scar, I know you hate what it means, I know you hate being adored for it, and I understand now you hate attention, but you have a future. I-I," he took a deep breath, "I don't. Not in the wizarding world." 

Harry stared at Draco, who was chomping at his lip, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched his own thumb rub Harry's scar. The scar he didn't hate so much with Draco's touch.

Once again, Harry felt selfish, because he knew most of what Draco had said was true. He was on the wrong side. His side did kill unnecessarily. Harry's did too, but it was self-defence. 

Harry didn't know how to reply, there was so much of Draco's speech that he wanted to contradict, but he didn't know how to put it all into words, to convince Draco of it. Admittedly, he couldn't deny that the Slytherin had been a coward, he'd been on the wrong side since the beginning and he knew it, but he was doing it for his family, to stay by his family's side, and Harry would do anything for his family. He sacrificed himself for his family and his friends. His mother put herself in front of a killer for him. Narcissa Malfoy had lied to the Dark Lord to save her son. Draco did what he had to do to be with his family, and that was not a cowardly thing to do. 

Harry said as much.

Draco huffed a little. The tears in his eyes broke Harry's heart. He went to drop his hand but Harry caught it on instinct, squeezing it in his own.

"I don't want a future in the wizarding world," he said before Draco could argue further, "I want a normal life. What I did, killing Voldemort, was a great thing, sure, but I've been trying to do that for 6 years running, and while I don't want to forget about it, I don't want to reminded about it every second. I don't want that to be me. That's not me. I'm just Harry. An 18 year old male who wants to be left to get on with life with people who appreciate me for me, not my scar or my wand." He breathed, his eyes falling on to Draco's lips, "I want to be left to explore my sexuality without it being in the newspaper, like a normal 18 year old. I want to kiss people who want to kiss me, not the Boy Who Lived, like a normal 18 year old. I want to be happy and at peace and wonder what ridiculous job I want to do,"

"-like a normal 18 year old," they both whispered at the same time. Harry's eyes lifted to Draco's, his heart fluttered just a little, and then they both stepped forward. 

Draco bent his head, dropping his lips to Harry's. Despite knowing what was coming, they both gasped at the contact. His lips were warm and full and gentle on his. It sent sparks through Harry's whole body and he couldn't help but wrap his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him flush to him.

The world narrowed and, for once, it was good. It was amazing. Draco in Harry's arms, Draco's hands clenched in Harry's hair, their kiss getting more desperate.

Harry couldn't pinpoint the moment he realised he wanted to do this, but he decided, right now, he wanted it forever and ever. 

Eventually, though, Draco pulled away, though he left his forehead on Harry's and his hands in his hair. 

"Eight more months. Let your adoring fans hound you and coo over you for that long. And then let's go. Let's be normal young adults elsewhere."

There were a lot of things they needed to talk about. But for now Harry just wanted to kiss and kiss and kiss and for once forget about the angst.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I don't even know what this is okay. Please don't be mean though. My other fics are better.  
> also my tumblr is claycro come talk to me (and be nice!) xxx


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